


Surface Level

by YogurtHoops



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen, Rated teen for swearing, canon-typical discussions of child murder, don't take the character list to heart they're only there for a little bit, showing your friends around your hometown for nostalgia purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25044436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YogurtHoops/pseuds/YogurtHoops
Summary: A shallow look at Freddy Fazbear's through the perspective of college kids unaffiliated with any of the in-universe characters.
Kudos: 5





	Surface Level

**Author's Note:**

> Was sifting through my docs pages, found this, and cleaned it up a little.

“Okay,” Rose says after a quick scan of the building that doesn’t last longer than five seconds. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

And Louis can’t really blame her – the local kid’s pizzeria looks disgusting from the outside. He’s more open to the idea that the inside is  _ probably _ better than the random stains on the concrete and literal dumpster next to the entrance would lead to believe, but the concept of arcades has never been a clean one from the beginning.

He doesn’t have high hopes.

Neither does Clark, apparently, which is worrying because he’s the only one who has actually  _ been _ inside.

“No shit,” he says, snorting. “But when you guys asked me if there’s anything interesting to do in the middle of fucking nowhere where I live and  _ this _ is the only place I can come up with? Imagine all the worse places there are.”

He does have a point, but Louis still eyes the way he opens the door with his hand protected by his sleeve, bowing like a butler. Rose notices too, giving him a disgusted look. “At least the other places aren’t meant for children under ten.”

Louis smiles, because all three were dramatically lamenting the loss of their childhood lives through college about a week ago, promising each other that they’ll never lose sight of the joys of being a kid even in their adult lives. They were admittedly slightly drunk at the time, but Louis remembered the mishmash of feelings. Rose was the most upset, looking up pictures of littlest pet shop toys she missed the most. She knew all of them by name.

That whole night was what spurred Clark to invite them all back to his hometown “ _ in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, _ ” as he put it. Rose hypothesized it was the desperate urge to have anyone but himself be a witness to his younger years. Clark told her to shut up, but did say that the nostalgia would be a good way of letting go. Louis liked the idea, since they’d already been to all his old haunts since the college they went to was close to where he lived. 

So if Clark’s nostalgia trip included getting diseased at a Chuck E. Cheese ripoff, Louis would gladly follow through. He walked through the open door, laughing a bit. Rose sighed, but followed soon after.

“They sell wet wipes, right?” She said, grimacing at the floor. “My shoes are sticking to the ground. This is gross.”

Clark laughs, putting an arm around her. “All part of the experience, my lady. You are about to be witness to–” He pauses, sniffing for a moment. “Okay, yeah, I don’t think it smelled this bad last time I was here.”

“All part of the experience,” Louis says, smiling politely at the employee walking to the front with a stack of menus she must have gotten from another table. She looked to be about their age, maybe a bit younger, with the same amount of bags under their eyes during finals week. 

“Hey! Table for three?” She gives them all a once over. “We’re not really busy today– Wednesday, you know?”

“I gotcha, sister.” Clark beams. “But that means more arcade time for us, right guys?”

Louis rolls his eyes, cringing a bit at his behavior. It’s like he’s a middle-aged dad. “A table would be nice.”

“Cool.” 

She leads them over to a table close to a curtained stage, the smell getting worse the further they get into the pizzeria. Rose is eyeing the waitress with a glint in her eye that tells him that she’s going to start asking about employee benefits and embarrassing details that no one wants to get into. He resolves to be damage control that when it happens, so in the meantime he looks around.

_ She really wasn’t kidding about it not being busy. _ There’s maybe two other families scattered around and, weirdly enough, a few businessmen in full suits at a circle booth in the corner. The PG pop music playing over the speakers is slightly muted, as if it usually played background to the children chatter at birthday parties. It felt slightly ethereal, honestly – a place that shouldn’t exist, like gas stations at three in the morning. 

“So, have any of you been before?” At Clark’s nod, the waitress takes out a notepad – which strikes him as odd. He has faint memories of ordering from places like these being different, to keep up with the children’s party layout. “I can get you started with drinks.”

“I’ll have a water, thanks,” Rose says, still giving her that contemplative look. Clark catches it, and nods slightly to Louis.  _ Damage control _ . 

“Same as her.”

“Same.”

The waitress smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

When she leaves, Rose immediately pounces. “I can’t imagine working here with minimum wage. The smell alone would make me vomit on every table I serve.” 

“We know, Rose,” Clark rolls his eyes. “But this is obviously a temp job, and that poor girl won’t know anything about anything you say to her. So chill and don’t stress her out about serious business stuff.”

“I’m not going to  _ stress her out _ –”

“I thought ordering from kid’s places like this was different!” Louis butts in, glancing guiltily in Rose’s direction. “Like, isn’t there a whole counter you order everything from? With, uh…” 

Clark snickers. “Don’t bust a vein trying to remember.”

“But is it different?”

“Yeah. Other places order like fast food joints, but just… not as fast? The pizzeria way, or whatever.”

“I can’t imagine it being very efficient, with the walk-up waiters,” Rose says, rolling with the topic change for now. “It probably takes more employees.”

“That’s what you’d think, right?” Clark opens his menu, scanning as he speaks. “Fazbear’s sorta started out as a family diner, though, and they wanted to continue some of the aesthetics from that. They changed owners and everything, but there’s someone from the original family working either in corporate or as a manager, and he really volleyed for some of the shit to stay in place. Like the animatronic show.”

A chill he can’t explain goes down Louis’s spine. 

Clark had told them about Freddy’s before, or at least as much as he claimed to remember. He mentioned cartoons and memorabilia that neither Louis or Rose had heard of. It took looking up a vintage picture of the robot band to get them to believe him.

Louis thought that animatronics aimed at children would probably be more family friendly-looking, but it worked for them in the eighties, apparently.

“Not like they could get rid of those, though,” Clark continues. “The characters were already integrated into television shows and stuff, but they’re still the same characters since 1983, so that has to say something. Yo, Lou, you’re cool with the vegetarian option, right?”

Louis has to blink a few times to tune into the conversation, quickly looking down at the menu. He frowns. “I’d rather go with cheese. I don’t trust vegetables from here.”

“Large cheese then. Rose?”

“If I see nothing that suggests there might be a deadly virus in my slice, I’m okay with it.”

“Nice.”

The table drifts into a comfortable silence, Rose and Clark checking their phones with the little cell service they have and Louis scanning the diner again. Clark did mention that the arcade was barely what you could call an “arcade” – just a line of assorted retro cabinets on the side of the room opposite of the stage. Some kids, presumably belonging to the two families in the seating area, wander around them with bags of coins. 

His mind is back on the animatronics when the waitress comes back with their water.

“Does everyone know what they want?” She takes out her notepad again as Rose recites the order. Clark turns to him excitedly. 

“It’ll take a while, so we can check out the games they have.” His eyes are bright, and Louis can’t help but share his enthusiasm. “We could also see if Pirate Cove was ever fixed up or changed – I could tell you about the old layout and everything!”

“And what am I, chopped liver?” Rose scoffs, but they both can tell it’s meant to be teasing. “Whatever. You guys can go have fun. I kind of want to talk to our server for a sec when she comes back.”

Both of them freeze, Clark wincing. It’s exactly what they want to avoid, but the need to look around and explore outweighs the urge to help out the poor employee subject to Rose’s wrath. “Give her mercy, man,” Clark pleads as he scoots out of the booth. 

“Sure,” she says, not bothering to sound convincing.

\--000--

They bypass the cabinets for now in favor of checking out Pirate Cove, which is located in a little alcove just off of the showroom with its own little seating area. Louis notes that the star decor is a nice touch, if a bit random. 

“They haven’t changed it at all, which is weird.” Clark picks up the “Out of Order” sign and spins it around, blanching at something on the other side. “Fuckin’ weird…” 

Louis looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Out of all the things a kid could carve into the back of a sign, ‘It’s Me’ doesn’t really make sense.”

“Well, the kids in my town are batshit crazy, I’ve told you.” He places the sign back where it was, grimacing. “It even smells bad back here. I thought it was getting better when we walked away from the direction of the kitchen, but now it’s just sort of musty.”

So the room is a bust, which sucks. Louis eyes the curtained area for a moment, though. “What’s in there?”

“Another animatronic, Foxy.” Another chill. “Did you seriously never watch the cartoon as a kid? Freddy, Bonnie–”

“Chica, Foxy. I know, but only because you’ve told me.”

Clark gives him a look. “Must have been a local channel, then.”

“You’re not gonna look behind the curtain?” He figured that was the next logical step for Clark in all his impulsive glory, but he actually stiffens for a second. 

“No way, dude. Like, I’m not scared of shit. You know this.” He pauses to let Louis hastily nod. “But you didn’t see Foxy when he was in service. I mean, neither did I, but sometimes the curtain was left open during maintenance, and he was all super fucked up…”

“All the more reason to check it out, right?” He really doesn’t know where Clark’s fear is coming from, but it seems small enough to help him get over it. “It’s just a robot, dude.”

He jumps when Clark grabs his arm. “Just leave it, man,” He says, with a genuine look of  _ I’m actually freaked out so don’t push it _ on his face. It’s a rare sight. “It’s like, a nightmare thing.”

Louis doesn’t quite understand, but he nods and pats the hand grabbing his arm. “Is there a bathroom around?”

“What, you wanna lose your virginity here?” Clark weathers a punch to the side, laughing shakily. “Yeah, it’s on the other side of the showroom, but dude. The rest of the place is disgusting, you think the bathrooms are gonna be better?”

“Just warm up some of the cabinets for me,” he says, rolling his eyes and walking in the direction Clark pointed out. He hears a disinterested “yeah sure” from behind him, so he figures whatever got his friend scared is out of his system. He doesn’t want anyone having a panic attack in a place like this.

He passes through the showroom to notice that the pizza is at their table. He also notices that the waitress is sitting in his previous seat, eyes wide as she listens dutifully to a charming Rose. The image dodges his expectations entirely, so he just takes Rose’s smug look at him on his way to the bathrooms in stride. She can tell them she told them so when they get back to the car.

Strangely enough, the smell gets  _ better _ once he enters the hallway to the bathroom. The door closes, and it’s a breath of almost-fresh air, if disinfectant can be considered fresh. Whatever is causing the diner to stink, it’s not here. He gives the decor a once-over, not really paying too much attention until his eye is drawn to a small blinking light on the ceiling. 

_ Security? _ Like, a security camera? He should be happy it’s not  _ in _ the bathrooms, but wow. The implications of that are kind of dark, aren’t they? He winces, not wanting to think about it. Goddamn. He makes sure to get a good look around the bathroom to make sure it’s camera-free before he does his business. 

Clark liked talking about random stuff, information about cold case murders or conspiracy theories that he looked up at midnight only to share in the morning with shadowed eye bags, but none of them were children abductions. It was too dark for the comical way he told his stories, and Louis thinks that those kinds of stories would make them all lose sleep for a week anyway. It was too scary to think about, even in college. Too freaky.

He knew Rose noticed that none of the cases Clark brings up get very depressing. She was the bravest out of all of them, openly criticizing horror stories and Clark’s way of telling them. It was a nice dynamic they all had: Clark would tell, Louis would listen, and Rose would challenge. She must have picked up that the critiques she was making were starting to repeat.

She never brought it up though. He thinks they’re all sort of sheltered like that.

The cameras definitely send a message, though. Louis is going to have it on his mind for days. 

On the way out, he catches a bulletin board with “safety rules” in large, silly font that’s hard to ignore.

  * **Don’t run.**


  * Don’t yell.


  * Don’t scream.


  * Don’t poop on floor–



_ Not like it would change the smell at all, _ he thinks.

  * **Stay close to mom.**


  * Don’t touch Freddy.


  * Don’t hit.


  * Don’t leave before dark.



**Thank you,**

**Management**

Well, that certainly solidifies the whole “child predator” thing. It’s like a mix of silly words that kids would be able to laugh at, and some legitimate rules that are justified. He leaves the bathroom hallway with a sense of dread.

Only to forget about it when the smell hits him again. Goddamn.

\--000--

“It was getting cold,” is the only thing Clark has to offer when Louis returns to find him eating two pizza slices at once. “You took a long time in there.”

“Long enough for Alison to get back to her job,” Rose adds unhelpfully. Louis rolls his eyes, sliding into the booth and getting a piece for himself.

“They had security cameras in the hallway. Had to make sure no one was peeping on me.”

Rose nods, not caring one way or another, and Clark stops shoveling pizza into his mouth long enough to garble out some words he can’t understand.

“Alison also offered to put on the animatronic show for us.” Rose translates. “They usually play it on the hour on weekdays, but she offered to play it now before we went home.”

Louis gives a worrying glance to the one family remaining in the building and the businessmen still debating at their table. “It won’t be a bother?”

“Their choice for meeting in a place like this,” Rose says. “Besides, I’d hate to miss…” She sighs. “Part of the experience.” 

All conversation is stopped when their waitress, Alison, comes out from behind the curtain on the stage, beaming. “Hello everybody! Is everyone having a good time?”

“Yeah!” Clark screeches. Louis punches him in the shoulder.

Alison giggles. “Great! Well, Freddy and his friends are getting a bit antsy backstage–”

There is no reason Louis should have felt a chill at that. It’s warm in the establishment, insulation keeping the heat (and the smell) inside. There is  _ no _ reason–

“– and they’re just  _ so excited _ to see you all!” She glances around the sparsity of the room, smirking a bit. “This is when I’d ask all the kids to call them out, so if you all could be so kind…”

One of the businessmen gives a halfhearted shout from their corner, which Rose snickers at. Clark gives a hearty, intelligible yell. Louis tries to relax.

Alison claps her hands twice with finality. “Then, without further ado, give it up for Freddy Fazbear and his band!”

Louis distantly notices Clark whooping as she exits stage right, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sudden pre-recorded intro to the show. 

_ “Squawk! That’s o-our cue, Freddy!” _

It’s obviously old, the dated cartoon voice reverberating around the showroom with a weird underlying static. It kind of hurts his ears.

_ “All r-r-right! You guys ready to rock?!” _

That’s followed by a blaring riff on guitar. He spares a passing glance to the businessmen at the booth, who are staring at the stage. It’s difficult to tell whether or not they’re frustrated by the interruption, or relieved at some mindless children’s entertainment. For Clark’s and the waitress’s sake, he hopes it’s the latter.

And then.

_ “Are y-you-you are you ready for Freddy, kids?” _

It’s like a switch when the curtain opens.

Where before the stench was tolerable, the curtain opening lets out a wave of garbage smell that hits them like a wall. He pinpoints the second it hits Clark, because he instantly stops cheering and starts gagging. Rose just glares as she lifts a hand to cover her mouth and nose. 

_ That wasn’t a great first impression _ , Louis thinks, covering the bottom half of his face with his shirt. He gets a good look at the stage, noting the actual lack of trash.  _ It must be coming from the band, then _ .

And he could believe that. The seven-foot exoskeletons look filthy, fur slicked down with what looks like grease (or sweat, if he was feeling macabre). With the smell practically non-existent in the restrooms and near the arcades in the back, the animatronics were undoubtedly the source. 

_ Why there’s a rule about ‘not touching Freddy’ when I wouldn’t be able to willingly be within five feet of him boggles my mind. _

Rose stands up, not even looking at the two of them, and leaves the booth. Louis watches her exit the building with a strong sense of finality – she’s waiting in the car, and not coming back. He looks over at Clark just in time for them to meet eyes.

The singing has started by then, and it’s the usual fare of cheesy rock with a baritone singer. It’s not  _ bad _ , really, just –

_ Wrong _ .

He bails a moment after, standing up and scanning the diner before catching Alison’s eyes. He gives her a helpless shrug, following after Rose and leaving Clark to pay the check.

\--000--

“We didn’t even get to the arcade!” Clark lamented, fingers tapping on the steering wheel of his van. “All we did was eat shitty pizza and get fucked in the throat by a decomposing squirrel.”

“I mean,” Rose’s voice sounds from the backseat. “I got  _ something _ out of it.”

“Stop bragging about the number you got! Fuck! It  _ never _ smelled that bad when I used to go there.”

Clark does look legitimately upset, eyebrows furrowed as he drives a bit more recklessly than usual, but Louis is letting it slide since there’s no other cars on the road. “Maybe something got stuck in the robots and died?” He offers weakly. 

“Yeah, and they’d just not notice? No checking whatsoever to see the rotting corpse of a rat in their beloved mascots?” Clark sighs. “Like, I knew it sucked major ass in the cleanliness factor even as a kid, but holy shit.”

“How eloquent,” Rose drawls.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to speak until I’m done bitching.”

Louis looks out the window at the passing scenery, only half paying attention to his friend’s bantering as they drive back to Clark’s house. On the way to the restaurant, he could faintly remember Clark pointing out his old haunts and some houses of some kids he knew, using stupid voices in that way he did. He was really looking forward to the nostalgia trip, but Fazbear’s didn’t hold up to the rose colored childhood glasses. 

It wasn’t a total disaster, though. They got cheap food and a story to tell for the rest of their lives.  _ There used to be a restaurant in my friend’s hometown that got closed down, but before it was copped it had the most horrible smell… _

It sounds like the introduction of a horror story, honestly. He could probably utilize his english major and pitch it to his classmates. He resolves to look up some stuff about the previous family diner that Clark mentioned, maybe add some credence to his plot. 

Or maybe he didn’t need to look stuff up when he had his own expert next to him barely drifting around empty intersections. “Clark?”

He pauses in his ranting. “What’s up?”

“How’d you get to know so much about the history of Freddy’s? Like, you knew a lot about how an original family member was a part of corporate, or whatever–” 

“Or was a manager at one of the bigger locations that’s shut down now, yeah. I looked up some stuff when I was a kid, must’ve stuck.” They’re on residential streets now, so he’s slowed down. “I mean, rumors you read in the dark about the restaurant you live near are bound to stick.”

Louis hums, satisfied by the answer. He opens his mouth to ask if there was anything else he knew when Rose perks up.

“Rumors?” Rose asks. “Like, one of your conspiracy theories?”

Clark blushes a bit. “Maybe!”

Louis frowns. “You didn’t tell us about it?”

“Nah.” Clark puts the van in park, not quite meeting Louis’s eyes. “I mean, it wasn’t really…”

Rose coughs, and  _ oh, duh _ . There were only a few stories Clark never told them: ones that were too dark for the mood. But that would mean… 

“Holy shit.” Maybe the horror story was already written for him.

“Didn’t want to freak you out or anything,” he mumbles, getting out of the car. Louis is quick to scramble out of his own passenger door to follow. “It was, like, a shitty last ditch attempt for an attention scam. They were already going out of business, and none of the kids–”

“Kids?” Rose takes out her phone, scowling at the lack of service. “Okay, hold on. Let’s get inside.”

Louis is admittedly getting worried, even through the warm  _ welcome back _ ’s from Clark’s mom and dad as they step into the house. They safely hole away in Clark’s room, which is covered wall to wall in video game posters, a few framed pieces of art Louis recognizes as things his friend had commissioned from different artists over the years, and a hanging transgender flag. They’re all neatly organized, with at least half an inch of space between each thing. A particularly large poster advertising  _ Last of Us _ hangs over Clark’s desk – nothing like Louis’s dad’s room from the eighties, which was basically messily wallpapered in band stuff.

Ellie and Joel look over the group with twin glares of uncertainty as Clark boots up his computer.

“If memory serves, I believe this shit started in the seventies,” Clark says, opening his browser and clicking on a few saved bookmarks. The  _ Small Town Conspiracies _ homepage comes up in its poorly designed glory. “I basically lost my shit when I saw my hometown listed as a hotspot. I think I got banned from commenting on the  _ Freddy’s _ page– yeah,  _ you are not allowed to comment in this thread. _ Damn.”

“If you’re done reminiscing,” Rose says from Clark’s loft bed. “What exactly happened?”

Clark grimaces. “So much shit. You know how Fazbear’s is a chain?” They nod, and he turns back to the computer, scrolling until an image of the band comes onto the monitor. “Well, it started out as a family diner. Wasn’t in this town – it was in some  _ other _ town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere. It stayed open long enough to get the attention of some corporate fucks–”

“Capitalism,” Rose says sadly.

“–and they made a spinoff location. That’s  _ this _ place, by the way, with the band you had the pleasure of smelling earlier. They had their own cartoon, too.” Another click, and a logo showcasing a yellow bear instead of Freddy’s usual brown coloring pops up. 

Louis, from his place on the floor, feels that chill run up his spine again.

“The timeline gets pretty fucky around there.” Clark leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. There was a coverup at the family diner, so the info is super sketch, but a kid apparently got mauled by one of the animatronics–”

“You can’t get  _ mauled _ by an animatronic,” Rose interrupts, appalled. “Like, no? Animatronic robots, even if they’re that advanced– they  _ break _ under the smallest bit of pressure. That’s bullshit. I’m calling bullshit. Louis, agree with me.”

It does sound a bit far-fetched, but he takes pity on Clark’s betrayed face and just shrugs. “I mean… maybe the story got twisted? It could have fallen on the kid, or something.”

_ “Or something,” _ Clark grumbles. “Either way, they got  _ super _ discontinued. Place closed down. But  _ during _ that time.” His eyes glimmer. “That spinoff location went through some rough shit. No one knows what, but they closed down for a few years before reopening at a new shiny building closer to the city. The common theory is some bad blood between the business owners.” He spreads his arms in a mockery of showmanship. “Place your guesses on how long the reopened one stayed open for.”

Louis doesn’t like the sound of that. “A year?”

“Three months,” Rose chirps.

Clark’s smile turns oddly subdued, and Louis knows they’re getting into the serious part. “Try  _ two weeks.” _ At their slightly shocked gasps, he turns to scroll through the website again. “Shall I paint you a picture? The spinoff restaurant closes for unknown reasons, and then reopens with  _ hella  _ safety technology, no expenses held back.” He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “The new animatronics apparently had face recognition software. They could search through criminal databases and take out a pedophile before the actual security even knew there was a threat.”

Rose’s face scrunches up. “That sounds…  _ so _ fake. And also extremely unethical? Face recognition software always is…” She pauses, realizing something. “What year was this?”

Clark grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nineteen-eighty-seven.”

“What?”

“No,” Louis breathes. The  _ internet _ wasn’t even open to the public until nineteen-ninety-one.

“It’s true.” Their storyteller turns to face them again, steepling his fingers. “No expenses held back my friends.  _ And _ .” He pauses for effect. “They could walk around without support.”

“That is such bullshit.” Rose pinches the bridge of her nose. “We’ve  _ just _ gotten robots to be bipedal and hold balance, and this gutter pizzeria just  _ happens _ to have–”

“Hey!” Clark snaps and points at her. “Don’t diss the Fredman, dude. He might hear you.” 

Rose scoffs. “Are you joking? Or is there a legitimate worry that a bear robot will hear me insulting his restaurant and kill me in my sleep?”

Louis tilts his head. “If they could walk around on their own, I think it’d be a perfectly reasonable worry.”

_ “Anyway,” _ Clark says, ending that train of thought with a wave. “This is  _ the _ part, so shut up for a sec.” He waits until Rose stops grumbling, and then sighs. “Now, this is a legitimate fucking thing they call it, so don’t get mad at  _ me _ for saying it, but there was an incident they call  _ ‘The Bite of Eighty-Seven’ _ .”

Louis hears a faint exasperated sigh from the loft bed, but he ignores it in favor of listening intently. The Bite of  _ what? _

Clark just smiles thinly. “I know, right? The Bite was actually a series of events leading up to the closing of the reopened location, all occurring in the two weeks it was functional. In that time, a security guard was arrested, another guard was put in a coma, and  _ five kids disappeared _ .” He pauses, satisfied at the shocked silence, and puts up a finger. “The first guard was on the night shift the first week, and mysteriously got moved to the day shift.”

“Mysteriously?” Rose mumbles to herself.

“You’ll see in a sec,” He assures her. “Because, during that next week with him on the day shift, the animatronics started getting… twitchy.”

Louis can see where this was going.

“Five kids go missing, despite the insane safety measures they had going on, and someone finds out that the day guard was luring kids into the back room with a spare mascot suit. Suddenly the robots get super aggressive towards the staff. The second guard found out  _ just _ how aggressive.” Clark’s smile turns sour. “He got his frontal lobe bitten clean off. Thus…”

“The Bite of Eighty-Seven,” Rose finishes, sounding impressed. “That’s insane.”

“How did they even get all that information?” Louis asks after a moment, bewildered. Clark just snorts a bit, waving his hand at his computer. 

“Forum people, dude. They’re  _ insane _ .” He gives a cursory scroll through the page once more. “Most of this is from police reports. The only reason why there’s not more solid evidence is that most of the restaurant documents are on paper and were never digitized. It’s all ‘my dad knew a guy’ and ‘I heard from my neighbor’s dog’ kinda stuff otherwise.”

“And this all happened at a different location, not the one we just came back from,” Rose concludes, and Clark nods his head. 

“Yeah, this place is the first opened location, but you can see how the reputation from the last one fucked them up.” He frowns. “Apparently these animatronics are the oh-gees. They got transported to the re-opened one to be used for spare parts, and got shipped back when shit got ugly.”

Louis whistles. “Damn.” Those are some old robots. 

Rose taps her fingernails on the wood of the loft, brows furrowing. “They never found the bodies?” She asks softly. 

“The guy never confessed,” Clark confirms. “That location got refurbished into a gym years later, though. You’d think they would have found them when bashing down the walls and such.”

Louis considers it. “It would be pretty hard to lug out bodies from the heart of the building without being noticed. Maybe he got rid of them somehow?”

“What could the guy do?” Rose says, throwing her hands up. “Put them in the pizza? The Hannibal route is always an option for disposing of bodies.” She sighs. “They were in the back room? I guess he could’ve hidden them in the spare suits.”

There’s a long silence where Clark and Louis just look at her. Louis can see her mind go from confusion, to slow realization, to cold denial. 

“No. Fuck that.”

Louis holds his hands up in front of him unthreateningly. “I mean–”

“Rose might have just solved a major conspiracy,” Clark says in total awe, before his face drops. “The smell.”

There’s another silence. 

“Well,” Rose says daintily, pulling a slip of paper and her phone out of her pocket. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight, but maybe this will be enough to convince Alison to quit that fuckall job. Shall we go over this one more time?”


End file.
